Can't Be Another Sad Story
by snickers-03
Summary: Gym trainer and assistant manager Steve Smith's awesome life is turned upside down with a near death experience. Approaching his 40th birthday, Steve suddenly finds himself questioning every decision he's made since high school and desperately wanting to change his ways. Along the way, he ends up reunited with his childhood best friend who has apparently been living on the streets.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: This is a take on one of the alternate universe/futures of Steve and Snot from the episode "The Unincludeds". In one of them, Steve and Snot lose contact with one another for a good long while having drifted apart. Steve has become grossly self-obsessed and vain and Snot finds himself living on the street.

Each of them are 39 years old at this point, taking into consideration that episode with them being 15 and it's a flash forward into the future of 24 years.

...

Mensch was sitting up against the corner of Saint Luther and Access Blvd and feeling dizzy in the most delicious way. He felt free but more than that, almost tangibly not long for this world. It was a tired feeling, one that he had gotten used to.

A sea of people swept passed him, most paying him no mind. A few tossed some change into the dirty, yellowing dixie cup in front of him. He shifted, bringing his knees up to his chest as best as he could.

It smelled like rain. Rain soon.

A particularly loud man came rushing past him, angrily jabbing in the air as he shouted into his cell phone. His suit was nice, of what Mensch could see of it, from his place slumped down on the ground.

This sidewalk was dirty, dirtier and more broken than the one on the other side of town but he didn't really care.

Slumping back against the brick behind him, the man pushed a shaky hand into his face to brush away invisible attackers as he let his legs straighten back out.

His beard had grown long as of late, his inability to travel far making it hard to meet up with Samuel "Sammy" Montaine, a great man who had once given him a great cleanup and haircut. His curly locks needed it now, having grown out too long and tangled.

He rubbed his hands along his legs. These were his good jeans, the black ones, well they were, they had been. He looked at the blood stains in the fabric distractedly until a voice beckoned down to him.

"Hey! Hey, come on!" It said.

The booming voice threatened to swallow him whole as it surrounded him, swirling with colors of blue and lilac. He looked up into the sky and smiled at the sight. He didn't see the officer peering down at him, his eyes looking past him and his dark black and well tailored uniform.

The lilac reminded him of something but if he had at once remembered just what that was, it was long gone now. The memory slipped away like the fragile pieces of his once sound mind.

"Come on, get up!" The cop was yelling now and grasping at his dirty green poncho quite aggressively.

Mensch struggled to his feet, now aware of the police officer addressing him.

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled huskily as he began to gather his things shakily.

"You can't sit here, this sidewalk is for pedestrians only... "

The man continued on but Mensch had heard it too many times before. He got the gist and tuned him out quite quickly.

Carrying the rolled up blanket over to his shopping cart, he stuffed it deep down in to the base, eyeing the glass liquor bottles with care so as not to break them. He needed them for later.

"Hey! Did you hear me?" The officer shouted again, causing him to turn and look his way.

He was young, maybe in his mid twenties, if that. He had baby blonde hair, cut short within only an inch or two of his scalp. Must be a fresh trainee, fresh on the beat.

"Mmm... yessir." He slurred to the man, giving a half salute and then staggering back a bit from the motion.

The "boy" seemed to disregard him then, as he stormed off down the street on foot, attention elsewhere. He had written him off, good.

'Fucking boy... ' Mensch thought to himself, turning away. He was a grown ass man, dammit. He didn't have to listen to this shit from no punk kid. He was much older, much wiser than him. But he'd learned long ago, the police were not someone you wanted to mess with.

As he leaned heavily on the cart, he began to take dangerous, unsure steps as he pushed it a ways down the street. He couldn't go far, he needed to meet Marshall here for the drop.

He'd waste time pushing the cart up and down a few blocks maybe, then when he was sure the kid had taken off, settle back in to the corner spot. He just hoped he could make it. He was already seeing spots.

A woman shoved into him by mistake and began to apologize but upon closer inspection of him, made a noise of disgust and took off instead.

Mensch smirked, already a melody of curses and insults spinning in his head.

He stumbled a bit but caught himself as he neared the end of the next block. The street herd was beginning to thin now, anxious business people heading home just as the final bits of light were leaving the sky.

Swinging the heavy cart back around towards the way he came, he began heading back down to the meet up spot.

No sign of the boy so that was good. He paused in his journey for just a second, to hack and nearly cough up a lung. He spit fluid out between his teeth onto the dirty pavement below. He stared at the blood for only a second before continuing on.

Back at the agreed upon spot, he eyed a nearby drifter as he made his way down the other side of the street. He couldn't place where he knew him from but had definitely seen him before.

His stomach rumbled from a lack of food but he ignored it, blissfully awaiting the drop of his drug of choice, heroin.

Leaning back against the brick, it felt cool against his neck now, maybe it really was going to rain?  
Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and into his eyes until he wiped them away carelessly.

Coughing some more, he ignored the bright red liquid on his poncho now.

Rain soon. Sleep soon.

If only the drop would come.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, it's time to start livin'  
Time to take a little from this world we're given  
Time to take time, cause spring will turn to fall  
In just no time at all...  
-No Time At All, Pippin

...

He was walking down the street, dark sunglasses shielding his eyes from the harsh afternoon sun. He was hungover, head pounding and in desperate need of a good pump. This was why after a quick smoothie run, he was making his way to the gym.

Steve ignored the various families with their children as they congregated along the sidewalks. He ignored the happy looks on their faces and the way they laughed. He ignored the bright blue sky and puffy white clouds. He was determined to get to his destination, goal in mind.

Unscrewing the cap on his bottled water, he guzzled it down as he kept walking, not losing the momentum of his stride for one second. Wiping his arm across his face, he chucked the plastic bottle at a nearby trashcan, not noticing it bounce near the rim and miss, cascading to the ground instead.

His head swam as he continued on his way. Too many red bulls, too many drinks the night before but hey, at least he'd had a good time. He'd partied well into the AM and scored with three different chicks, all at the same time. It had been a good night.

Arriving at the gym, he shoved open the glass doors and marched through the entrance, keeping his sunglasses firmly in place. The man at the reception desk glanced up at him but stayed silent as Steve continued on his way further towards the back.

He finally removed his glasses once he got to the free weights section and spotted a hot blonde on one of the benches. He smirked, pocketing the glasses and went to work.

She glanced at him once, twice, as he sat on the side of a bench and began doing curls. She smiled and he knew he was in so he tossed the barbell aside and headed over to her.

"Hey, Steve Smith. Maybe you've heard of me?"

The woman was caught off guard at first but as she looked him over she recovered and smiled seductively at him. "Well, I have now."

He produced a business card from seemingly nowhere and handed it to her. "I'm kind of a big deal around here. Assistant manager."

She glanced from the card and up to his face where he gave her bright smile. Biting her lip, she pocketed the card in a small pocket in her workout shorts. "Maybe you could give me a tour around? Maybe in the bathroom?"

Steve was getting the distinct impression that she wasn't exactly the brightest but that had never been a turn off before. He grinned and stood up, leading the way over to the nearest men's room.

…

Climbing behind the wheel of his shiny, red sports car, Steve Smith smiled at the reflection of himself in the rear view mirror. He was heading home alone tonight but he didn't count this night as a loss. Oh no, the club he'd been at had all the wrong ladies in it. They were too beneath him for him to even attempt to take them home for a pity lay.

He'd had much better options at Club Dread the other night anyway. He'd have to make sure to cross this one off his list as a no-go in the future.

He was pleasantly buzzed, feeling dizzy and happy-go-lucky all over. Starting the engine, he grinned at the way it roared to life. He loved that sound, the sound of power.

It was nearing 1am when he finally made his way down the road and left the downtown area. Philadelphia was a great place for meeting women in one area or another. The bars were amazing, the clubs... well, let's just say he'd never struck out in this town.

Moving here had honestly been the best decision of his life. And to think, he'd spent so many wasted years in that pitiful little town he grew up in. Now, look at him! He was in the prime of his life!

He was rich, he was successful and he was getting chicks left and right. But did that ever impress his family? Hell no. Fuck them. He didn't need them anyway. He was better than that. He didn't need anyone, that was the beauty of it all.

Forever young, forever single and just bangin' chicks left and right. What a life.

As he drove down the streets of Philadelphia, he punched on the radio and began to bop to whatever R & B song came on the radio. He began mouthing along to the words, missing a few here and there and as he reached down to turn the volume, he failed to see the headlights heading straight for him from the opposite direction.

"And I wanna say, yeah I wanna say-"

And suddenly, there was blackness combined with the sound of scraping and crumpling metal.

…

22 Years Ago

He shouldn't feel this way, he keeps telling himself. He can't stop thinking about him and dammit, it is tearing him up inside.

Just forget about it, he tries telling himself. Don't think about the way his fingers feel, dancing across his skin when his hand accidentally brushes his. Don't think about the feeling of his hot breath on your cheek in the morning, when they're in bed and it's early after a sleepover. And definitely don't think about what happens late at night, when the two of you are sneaking outside and he helps you down from the roof so gently and so carefully so that you don't fall and bust your head.

He can't even remember how long it's been happening, how long he's felt this way about his best friend. All he knows is that it must have started at some point just after they began practicing kissing with one another. Although, their once a week tradition had recently turned into something more, often with them experimenting and pushing the boundaries and terms of the agreement they'd once made.

Case in point, last night while they were in the midst of practice, he was shocked to find himself suddenly pushed down on to the mattress by Snot's firm hand on his chest. Still kissing, he began running a hand through his hair and down his side to his pants. Startled by the sudden change in routine and being a bit thrown for a loop, Steve had shot back up and questioned his motives whilst trying to keep the blush on his cheeks down.

He'd had no answers for him, blushing himself and stuttering excuses at him, one after another. Steve had found his heart was pounding, his blood rushing through him, everywhere. This was huge and he couldn't... he just couldn't deal with it right now.  
Snot had quickly left, abandoning him alone in his bedroom and heading home and so Steve had sat there awkwardly for at least a half hour until his sister had come home and demanded he help her with groceries.  
And that had been the first time he'd realized there was a problem arising.

…

Steve awoke to the sounds of beeping, machines surrounding him, as he lay almost restrained down on a hospital bed by the various wires and do-dads connected to him. His mouth was dry and his head was pounding. Was he in a hospital gown?

He blinked furiously, trying to clear the watery quality of his vision as a nurse suddenly approached him from the other side of the room.

"Hello, Mr. Smith. Do you know who I am?"

He tried to speak but found all that came out were squeaks. He cleared his throat a bit and tried again. "N-No? Who... are you?"

"I'm Melody. I'm the head nurse on this floor and I've been handling your case all this week. We've talked twice before this but I expect you've been woozy and sleepy from the medications so try not to worry too much about that."

Steve blinked at her, mouth agape. "W-What? What? I'm... why am I here?"

She licked her lips, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she looked over his paperwork. After a moment, her eyes darted back to his curious gaze. "I'll let the doctors know you're awake and in good condition. They'll be in in a bit to talk to you."

With that she left the room and he found himself enraged at the brush off by the woman. What the fuck? Couldn't she just fucking give him an answer?

The anger that filled him was sudden and he found himself almost shocked at it's intensity. Forcing himself to calm down, he tried taking a deep breath but shuddered in unanticipated pain. His chest ached, his lungs must have been bruised, his ribs possibly broken?

The pain swelled in intensity until he found himself on the brink of passing out. The monitors near his bed began beeping erratically and the same nurse rushed back in to hit a few buttons.

"I'm giving you a bit more for the pain so you should feel better in a moment here." She said kindly.

Steve opened his eyes again, which had been squeezed shut bracing against the feeling of his chest which felt like it might explode. It was beginning to recede now however and he found himself going numb all over.

He relaxed and exhaled, feeling nothing but calm and fluidity filling him.

"How do you feel, Mr. Smith?" She asked, green eyes focused intently on him.

He smiled lazily. "Mmm... good?"

She returned the smile. "I'm glad."

…

23 Years Ago

Snot laughed as Steve told his garfield joke for what felt like the 100th time that summer but oh well, it was funny. Toshi didn't seem to think so and so he had angrily stormed off to his house but the three of them simply shrugged and decided to get back to practice.

Steadying the bass against his hip, Snot placed his fingers on the beginning fingerings as Steve gripped the microphone once more and they launched into their favorite song.

Steve & The Asstones had been a great start, had it not been for Roger taking over and effectively breaking up the band. But, they had recently regrouped and decided to give it all another try, some of them less keen on it than others.

Snot had always been right there with him whenever he had any sort of idea, not caring whether it was good or bad. He was very supportive of everything Steve wanted to do. And right now, he wanted to rock.

And so, they had dedicated every weekend so far, in the past two months to practicing a few songs here and there until they were happy with the sound of them. Steve's dirty little secret was that they would hopefully be entering the upcoming Chimdale County Music Festival at the upcoming carnival. He knew they'd had problems in the past due to Roger mainly, but he was hopeful that they could win this year.

Glancing back at Snot as he began to sing along as the backup, Steve smiled at his best friend and it was returned back to him.

This was the best summer ever.

…

Fractured ribs, whiplash and a traumatic brain injury were just some of the injuries he had sustained from the auto accident he was told he'd been in. He was very lucky to be alive. After nearly a month's stay in the Presbyterian Hospital downtown, Steve was released and sent home to continue recovering from his injuries. But the whole ordeal was far from over. Now, he had to deal with a court appearance and several tickets for the drunk driving he had committed. It was a very severe offense.

Thankfully, the other driver involved had been alone and had not sustained too many injuries. Steve had quite a lot of money stashed away and so had been able to cover most of the costs so far. His insurance had refused to cover most of the bills due to his incompetence and general disregard for the law and public safety.

But he had been able to work out a deal to make payments and take care of the citations as well as have several points placed against his license and driving record. He was also court ordered to attend AA meetings and complete several hundred hours of community service.

But that hadn't been the worst of it. No, Steve was just happy to be alive. Feeling very surreal, as he walked down the street now, he wondered what would have happened had he actually killed someone or himself?

He wondered if his parents had heard on the news, back in Langley? Perhaps, he should give them a call or even just drop by for a visit. It would mark the first time they'd spoken in nearly eight years. Perhaps, it was time.

Steve found himself wandering these streets of his neighborhood aimlessly on this saturday afternoon. After losing his job with the gym, he'd been actively avoiding the place, not feeling like getting his pump on any longer. Sure, he could sign up with a different gym entirely, but what would be the point?

He'd nearly died being stupid and wasting his life. He had wasted his life. God, what did he even have going on that was so fucking important anyway?

He headed inside a JuiceATopia and ordered his usual. Once the clerk handed his order to him, he slumped down into a seat at a table by the window and stared gloomily out at the sunny day.

Fuck. He'd really fucked up. What had he been thinking? Drinking and driving? This was bad, almost as bad as-

No... he wasn't going to think about that night. He had promised himself and others that he would put it behind him. That was 20 years ago. No point in thinking about it now.

Sipping at his juice, he let his mind turn to the hospital stay he'd endured. That had been another great, albeit unexpected effect of being "tied down" in a bed all day, unable to do his normal routine.

Steve had been subject to thinking a lot about the past, whether he wanted to or not. He blamed the medications he was under, and specifically the morphine drip they'd had him on.

Memories of the past had been able to filter through in a deliciously painful way that he'd for so long been able to keep down and pressed to the back of his mind. Memories of... him.

His eyes grew watery and Steve, embarrassed, grabbed his juice and hopped to his feet to head home. Slipping his dark sunglasses on to cover up his tear filled eyes, he hoped no one was paying him any mind as he walked home to his house down the block.

As he passed by the park, god no, not a park not right now, he watched enviously as a couple happily pushed their daughter on the swing. He tried not to watch them for too long. Nearing the end of the green space, he spied two men standing fairly close to each other, laughing and giggling together. His heart clenched but he kept moving forward.

It was too late for any of that. It was too late to be who he had always wanted to be. Wasn't it?

…

Late at night, sitting in bed, the silky black sheets pooled around him and Steve was wide awake, just thinking. It was about 3AM but really who cares? What's the point? I mean really, what's the fucking point?

Why had he lived? Why had he been given the wondrous gift of this life anyway?

Steve felt the sting of tears around his eyes and for a second was genuinely confused as to why exactly he was crying for the third time that day. He tried not to think about it but he knew it had a lot to do with his past in Langley.

Sighing in frustration, he scrubbed at his face and hopped out of bed. He wasn't getting any sleep tonight anyway. He headed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, scrubbing almost angrily and wishing he could just blank everything out. He didn't want these memories. He didn't want that life or this one really.

He exhaled harshly, still feeling a slight twinge of pain with every heavy breath he took. Damn steering wheel. It had been the most significant perpetrator in his injuries. That and the drinking of course.

He stared at his image in the mirror as he leaned against the sink heavily. He glared at the image, the mussed up hair, lacking for once it's normal amount of hair gel goop to keep it looking 'just so'. He glared at the dark circles under his eyes and the way his perfectly white teeth looked back at him. He hated everything about himself. Why did he get to live?

He turned away from the reflection angrily, and sulked out towards the living room. The entire house was pitch black but he'd memorized the placement of furniture some three years ago now.

This house was a stupid purchase. This house was a simmering reminder of everything his life lacked. Why did he even buy it? To fill it with things? Expensive fucking things to make him look better than he was? He made himself sick.

Sinking down onto the plush couch, he clicked on the TV, the immediate illumination of the screen shining across him and everything else in the huge room. He flipped a few channels before landing on a rerun of Star Trek.

Reaching out for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, he curled up underneath it and tried to forget his problems and his pathetic self in the early 1960's grandiose idea of space travel.

His mind rebelled against him and turned back to the time he and his childhood friends had dressed up together as members of Star Fleet to go to a convention. It refused to listen to him and morphed into a much later memory of him and Snot, alone in his bedroom, cuddled up on his bed and watching this very show.

He shook his head mercilessly to rid himself of the thought but it persisted stubbornly. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, letting the audio of the TV continue in the background.

Steve snuggled deeper underneath the blanket and tried to imagine what his life might be like were Snot and him still friends. He struggled for a moment before realizing that the reason it was so difficult to imagine was because so many things would be different.

For one, he most likely wouldn't be living here in Philadelphia. He'd be back home, in Langley, where he belonged. He supposed he'd have a good job, a nice, steady office job in a cubicle farm somewhere. And what was wrong with that? Hadn't that been what he had always wanted anyway?

When had he strayed so far from who he used to be?

He tried to imagine Snot here now, with him, comforting him in his time of need, cooing over his injuries. Maybe he'd bring him soup? Maybe he'd just make him tea and insist that he bake him a delicious cheesecake.

One thing for certain, Steve wouldn't be here alone, moping and feeling like he was on the verge of gulping down too many of his supplements in order to just put this whole mess to bed.

No, he'd be embraced here in a warm cocoon of safety and love by a man that he had for far too long considered the be-all, end-all of him. A man who he had taken for granted and then pushed too far away. One who insisted that they stay together for better or worse, one who he had eventually caused the 'worse' part to force them apart.

One who he had not talked to in 20 years.

Steve sat up, shoving the soft, fleece blanket aside as a hamburger commercial came on TV in the foreground. His heart pounded, could he call him up? Should he?

Snot wouldn't want anything to do with him, surely. Or would he?

His heart began to race faster and faster as he considered the idea. What if he visited him? What if he got back in touch with him and they began hanging out?

Feeling a warmth fill him, the likes of which he hadn't felt in far too long, Steve began to smile to himself as he considered the idea.

But where the fuck did he even start to look? Well, there was New York. That was the idea. That had been some of the last words he'd ever heard from the man as they were callously spat in his face that night in september.

They were nineteen.

His best friend had proclaimed he was leaving forever, going to pursue a better life in the big apple. And to be fair, he'd had to pry the information out of him. They'd been on terribly strained terms up to that point and it was only when the boy had begun disappearing from school repeatedly that Steve had sought him out to ask why.

New York. He was moving to New York.

It wasn't much to go on but it was something he supposed.

Steve sank back down onto the couch as the episode resumed. He straightened out the blanket, intent on trying to get some sleep. Tomorrow he'd begin his search. Tomorrow, he'd start over.


	3. Chapter 3

The car was racing out of control, the steering wheel seeming to struggle and writhe out of Steve's grip. There was much shouting, particularly from the passenger side where Snot sat, panicked gripping at the door and his own seat.

There was a sickening skidding of the tire's rubber along the pavement, followed by the back of the car fishtailing around as they began to spin out just slightly. Steve shook his head, trying to clear his dizzying thoughts from overwhelming him. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears but ignoring this, he pressed the gas pedal down further, accelerating forward.

It wasn't that late yet, not even nearing midnight and he had been insistent that they stay out just a little later, enjoying the freedom. Something in him had told him to head home and turn in, begged him even.

Snot had begged him to let him go home, something distant in his eyes making Steve feel off and cold. And so, to rid his best friend of his concern, he'd pressed on, insisting that they enjoy one of the last nights of their freedom together before senior year started up and they were sure to be pulled away towards responsibilities.

It began to rain even harder, the large drops thudding as they hit the windshield of his mother's bright red sedan. It was becoming difficult to see and even as he drunkenly pawed at the windshield wipers to turn on, he was still having trouble, his vision swimming.

"Steve! Look out! Be careful!"

Snot's voice was echoing out towards him, sounding as if it were many miles away. He barely registered the words, swerving this way and that and trying his best to pay attention to the road in front of them.

A chorus of honks sounded from all around them and Steve was soon growing annoyed at everyone's bossiness towards him. He jerked to the right to bark something at Snot when suddenly the two of them plowed up and over into a fountain, the car's airbags deploying all around them.

…

Steve shot up from his place on the couch, his blanket falling listlessly from atop his bare chest. He panted for a moment, struggling to gain control of his ragged breathing. His eyes began to focus more and more as he recognized just where he was.

In the foreground, the television was showing some sort of infomercial now, something about cookware. The sunlight streaming in from the window nearby was hitting him directly in the face in the most malicious way and he winced, trying to block it with a lazy hand.

Fumbling around for the remote, he clicked the T.V. off before running his hands over his face in irritation. Had it been a dream? Another nightmare from his past? Yes, yes of course. It was the same dream he always had, particularly when he allowed himself to get too stressed out.

Sighing in frustration, Steve stood to begin to make a protein shake, half asleep and not paying attention to the steps even as he completed them. Two scoops of powder poured into the blender already, he stopped abruptly as he realized just what he was doing. He was making his normal morning shake, the one he always had before work when he remembered his termination.

Steve let out a groan of disgust, dropping the red measuring cup onto the counter. He spun away from the blender, torn about what he should do.

His mind turned to his plans from last night, his wild idea of seeking out his childhood friend. What was he smoking?

Shaking his head at the nonsense idea, Steve padded out of the kitchen and back towards his bedroom. He'd get into padmasana pose and just meditate on everything for a while. After all, he needed clarity and indulging in fantasies from a prior life was no way to go about things.

Once he arrived in his bedroom however, the sudden urge to be sick struck him and he was rushing towards the bathroom sink with haste. After losing the contents of his stomach, of which consisted only of a bit of juice from the night before, Steve struggled to hold himself upright as he stared into the mirror.

The dark circles under his eyes hadn't gotten better, in fact they were worse now. How could that be? He'd been trying to take it easy, trying to rest.

He felt chills all over his body as he began to shiver and wondered if he maybe had been pushing himself too far the last few months. He had, of course, gotten drunken and nearly killed someone, but that aside, he had also been dining on nothing but salads and smoothies, juices and several different kinds of supplements.

Perhaps, he needed some real nourishment, a nice, home cooked meal for once. His heart ached as he thought of his mother and her home made lasagnas. He missed her, everything about her. But as his mind recalled his father's last words to him, his heart grew dark and his eyes glared at his own reflection.

Fuck that, I don't need them. I don't need to put up with that, he thought.

Splashing some cold water on his face, he took some deep breaths and began to feel a bit better. Still, he should eat something. Maybe his yoga could wait.

…

Steve slumped down further in the plush arm chair next to the window. Sipping on his latte, hoping it'd help his headache to go away, he let his eyes roam over the customers visiting the small coffee house.

Many were parents with their kids, some were happy couples just content to enjoy a nice cup of coffee and share a fruit turnover or two.

Jealously rose up in his heart as he forced himself to tear his eyes away so as not to think about how painfully alone he was. Gulping down more of his coffee from the paper cup, he then turned his attention to the blueberry muffin on the delicately decorated saucer.

He so wanted to eat that muffin, it was dusted with sugar and the blueberries, my god, the blueberries were huge! His better judgment was trying to tell him to throw it away, that it wasn't worth the calories. His rumbling stomach tried to argue that if he didn't eat something soon he might die.

Steve sighed in irritation, his fingers itching to reach out and just attack the muffin, when a woman approached him.

"Excuse me? May I take this?"

He turned his light eyes over to the woman, about his same age, her long dyed blonde hair looking very shiny in the light of the sun coming from the window behind him. He swallowed nervously, almost blinded by her beauty. "What?"

"The... book? May I take this?" She smiled and gestured towards one of the hard backed books stacked on the tiny table next to him.

He shrugged. "Oh, yes of course. Sure."

She nodded her thanks and trotted away back to her table to read in peace. Steve watched her for a moment as she ate her own muffin and sipped at her drink. She smiled as she read along the book, turning each page this way and that.

Steve swallowed and eyed his untouched breakfast once more. He wondered idly just how many pain pills he'd left back at home and cursed himself for not bringing them with him.

No, enough of this. He firmly shook his head and tried to rid himself of his dark thoughts. This wasn't healthy, none of this way.

A spiteful voice in the back of his head reminded him that he hadn't been particularly healthy in quite a long time.

The woman's phone rang and she set the book aside quickly to answer. Steve sipped at his coffee some more, pretending not to watch her as she grinned at the voice on the other side of the phone.

She seemed happy, ecstatic even, to be talking with this person. Steve tried to remember the last person he talked to on the phone and winced when he couldn't remember.

The woman giggled and began to blush, covering her mouth as she laughed. Suddenly, she glanced up as a man approached her, holding a cellphone to his ear as well.

They laughed together, both hanging up and it became apparent that it had been him she'd been speaking with. Steve averted his gaze as the woman stood and the two hugged tightly before heading out of the shop.

Feeling lonely and empty, Steve glanced around at all of the happy people and tried to remember when he was last truly happy. Feel disconnected from it all, he fought the urge to just head home and mix up a bunch of supplements into his blender for a nice workout shake. Maybe he could hit the gym and work up a good sweat. A particularly sharp intake of breath reminded him that he wasn't yet fully recovered from the accident.

He eyed his muffin once more and metaphorically throwing his hands up in the air, bit into it with a passion. He savored the sweet taste and the fluffy bits of the bread as it rolled around in his mouth. It had been years since he'd had anything baked, too worried about the amount of fat and calories they carried.

He felt like he was in heaven, truly content and happy for once. It occurred to him just how silly that thought was but he wanted more, more of it. And not just food.

Didn't he deserve happiness too? Didn't he deserve to live a life of contentment?

As he polished off his breakfast, he began to feel better already. His thoughts turned to Snot once more, but this time, he guiltily let them remain there.

Perhaps, one quick visit wouldn't hurt. Just to say hi, of course. The only problem would be finding out just where he lived.

There was really only one way to figure it out and it involved the absolute last place on earth he'd ever wanted to visit again.

Feeling as if he had no other choice, Steve pulled out his phone, angrily punching through his phone book to locate a single name, Hayley Fischer.

…

Hayley and Jeff were currently at the mall, trying their best to find a gift for her parent's wedding anniversary. She laughed at the goofy hat her husband had held up next to him when suddenly her phone began to ring.

Fishing it out of her messenger bag, she audibly gasped at the name listed on the caller ID.

"What is it, babe?"

Hayley struggled for words before beaming up at him. "It's my brother."

Steve was about to hang up and just forget it once and for all when she answered. "Uh... hey, Hayley."

"Steve?! Oh my god, like, I can't believe you're calling me! How are you?"

"I'm... " He struggled with how to respond, normally the standard 'I'm good' response would suffice but he just couldn't get himself to spit out the words. "Uh... I'm fine, I guess."

"Fine? Well... it's nice to talk to you!" Hayley sounded sweet, nicer than he remembered and he began to feel even guiltier when he remembered how they hadn't spoken in over three years directly.

Steve downed the rest of his coffee and tossed it in the trash, heading outside onto the street. "Yeah... well, you know, I figured it's been a while. I should call."

He knew he sounded less than excited about the whole idea and kicked himself for not trying hard to sound positive. On the other end, Hayley glanced worriedly at Jeff who just shrugged in response.

"Well, when are you comin' for a visit? You know, mom and dad's anniversary is next week."

"Yeah... yeah, I know." He said, even though he hadn't the faintest idea that it was. "That's why I called actually, uh... I was thinking of visiting for a while. I mean, not a long while, a really quick stop on my road trip."

"Road trip?"

Steve ran a hand through his hair as he stared out uneasily at the passersby on the sidewalks. "Yeah, I'm taking a bit of a trip up and down the east coast so I thought I'd visit."

He wondered if he were coming across as nonchalant as he meant to. Hayley seemed to have bought it however as she continued on cheerfully now.

"Well, that's great! You should come by! I'd love to see you."

"Yeah... so I'm gonna be driving down then tomorrow. Is that cool?"

The woman smiled into her phone and nodded. "I'll let mom and dad know. I can't wait to see you."

Steve was less than optimistic about the whole idea but still he faked it all the same. "Great."

…

Later that night, as Steve packed for his road trip, it occurred to him that he should dig up some of the old photos he had from high school. It took a bit of digging through his closet but soon he was able to find the particular plastic bag that held all his cherished memories. He really should get around to putting them in a photo album Ah well.

Flipping through the first few, he chuckled at the various shots of Toshi and Barry in different cosplay outfits. When he hit the fourth photo, it felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

Steve was completely floored, literally, as he sank down to the carpeted ground staring at the photo in his hand. It was one of him and Snot, just after one of their 'nerd' parties, ones they had become famous for throwing in their school. It involved inviting only the outcasts and those unable to get invitations to the cool kid's parties.

He stared at the way he was slouching backward into his best friend's grasp. Snot was clearly holding him up as the intoxicated look on his face was more than apparent. But it wasn't just that. The look on Snot's face was really what had surprised him. He wasn't looking at the camera, at whoever was taking the photo. No, no, he was looking straight at him. His face was mixed with a slight look of amusement and half a bit of concern.

It was a very powerful photograph and Steve clutched at either side gently with finger tips brushing the sides. His heart beat faster, his mouth grew dry. He had been so handsome back then, just why oh why did he have to go and fuck it all up and drive him away?

Taking in the reality of the situation, of just what he was doing at the moment, he began to laugh incredulously. I mean, it was after 11pm at night, and here he was, mesmerized by this photograph from high school like some little psycho.

He was planning a trip back home, not really for any logical reason like to see your family or anything, oh no, he had planned on seeking out the council of Mrs. Lonstein. He just hoped she was still in Langley.

Was this ridiculous? Oh yes, he was being slightly psychotic and crazy and yet, he just didn't know what else it was he could do at this point.

He missed Snot. His life was a mess, he had no one and nothing going on. And he was beginning to think that every decision he'd made since high school had been a mistake.

So maybe, he was being crazy and irrational but what was the alternative? My god, what was the alternative? Stay here, in this lonely house, find another trainer job and keep sucking down supplements until his biceps were the size of grapefruits?

There was one thing he understood from all of this and that was, if he wanted any chance at finding any sort of happiness in this life, he had to work for it because karma sure as hell wasn't going to do him any favors.


End file.
